


gold and glittering

by sansapotter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, Mutual Masturbation, Skype
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 18:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6021016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansapotter/pseuds/sansapotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa tries something new, as she deals with the distance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	gold and glittering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honey_wheeler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_wheeler/gifts).



> written for valar_morekinks round 1, Jon x Sansa in a long term relationship, they try Skype sex and Sansa takes to it.

Sansa sat patiently at her desk, bedroom door locked lest anyone unexpected show up; she had done her makeup carefully using the computer’s camera, even though it wouldn’t fuss Jon how or even if she put makeup on her face. She fluffed her hair as she waited for the chiming ring to begin, adjusting the screen for her best angle. 

Jon brightened as soon as he saw her, “I’ve missed your face.” He said gently, and so relieved. The distance sucked, she couldn’t say summer love sucked, but only seeing her boyfriend during the holidays, or when he could take the time off work seemed unfair. More than unfair, it was cruel.

Still she laughed, determined to make the best of things, “I sent you pictures the other day.” 

“Those weren’t pictures of your face,” and she blushed at how low his voice dropped, “is that what you have on right now?”

“Yes,” and he groaned, dropping his head against the back of the chair. Their conversations had been taking this turn more recently. Texting all week, talking some nights on the phone, so by the time they were face to face the want was stronger than ever. She had a test right after Valentines Day, and it was such a long drive for him to get there, so she would have to wait until spring break to be with him. 

“Can I see it?” Sansa bit her lip, before she nodded. In the natural light the difference in the fabric and her skin was more obvious than those she sent to him. The lace was the palest of pinks, and the most romantic, least practical set of lingerie she owned. No support, no padding, it was solely for this purpose. Jon’s reaction made it well worth the purchase, leaning close to the screen like if he tried he could make the image more clear. 

His stare didn’t make her uneasy, or even nervous. It made her warm and achey, she had to squeeze her thighs together to keep that feeling at bay.

“I know,“ he said softly, familiar enough with her shifting and twisting. Then shyly he added, “Do you remember when I was in Frostfangs?”

There was a lot she remembered about Frostfangs, but she knew the moment he was thinking of. “You weren’t looking then,” she said by way of protest. She’d blushed for days after that phone call, remembering the sound of his breathing on the other end of the line, the filthy things he said to her.

“I could close my eyes now,” he offered. He would do it if she truly asked. 

“I can’t,” and it sounded so much like a whine, even though the thought only made her ache more. Jon only nodded, never pushing, never angry, knowing if she truly hated the idea the subject would change, but she only offered silence. “I don’t know what to do,” she’d done this by herself, but never for someone else’s eyes.

“Whatever you want to do,” he said gently.

“Will you-will you do it too?”

“If that’s ok with you,” she nodded quickly, intrigued. He laughed low, not to tease her. Eyes following her hands as they fussed with the ends of her hair, “you don’t have to Sansa.”

The tender way he said her name had her shaking her head, “no, no I want to… I just don’t know where to start.” She took a breath, when she was alone she thought of Jon, she liked to imagine the rough scratch of his beard against her thighs when he tasted her, and the way he always took the time to kiss her like there was nothing else he’d rather do. He whispered the dirtiest things into her ear before he did anything at all.

“Your chest gets so pink when you’re turned on, did you know that?” she shook her head, “I can tell when you’re in a state because you go as red as your hair, pink so soon you must be thinking of something filthy,” he grinned teasingly.

“I’m thinking of you, usually I do.” She bit her lip, feeling more exposed than if she were stripped bare. 

“Show me,” the words more of a plea than a command; when she brought herself off she had to use a firmer touch than Jon ever had, the lace was rough against the soft skin of her breasts and scratched against her nipples deliciously. She heard Jon’s groan through the speaker, but she couldn’t open her eyes, not yet. Once the ache became too much she pulled the cups aside, “I knew that lace was a familiar color,” and to think the shades and colors of her body resonated so deeply in his mind had a pleasing shudder going through her.

The sound she made when her fingers finally pressed against her clit, were answered with Jon’s sawing breath. Pushing her chair back she hooked a leg around the arm so he might see her. When she finally opened her eyes she noted how heated his gaze was, watching her through hooded eyes, the look of him now, stroking himself to the pace she set would certainly tease and drift in and out of her dreams for days, maybe even years to come. 

_Please_ , he breathed and she shifted the fabric just so and bore herself to him, rubbing, and pressing until her breath was coming in short high pants. She was past considering how she must look from this unpracticed angle, confident that no matter how she must appear Jon would think her perfect. She never imagined, not in a million years the stare of any man would bring her so many emotions, not good ones at least. His full lips were parted, breathing rough and when he started to speak, those obscene words, paired with his eyes, black with lust had her panting out his name. He choked out her name, as she rocked against her own fingers with purpose.

Afterward, as she adjusted the all but useless cups of the lingerie back into place she started to giggle touching the heated red skin of her chest, and bringing her hands up to her face, shy after giving so much of herself, not even physically, over to him but emotionally. His soft laugh was cut short when she started to cry, and it worried him, as it always did when her emotions took hold of her like that. “Sansa?” the panic, the clatter of something as he adjusted the screen like it could bring him nearer to her. 

“I just wish you were here is all,” she shrugged, “it’s not the same when you aren’t here to kiss me, that’s all. I miss that.”

“I miss it too,” he agreed, “forty four days to go.” He said with a sigh, “I could always be there next weekend?”

**Author's Note:**

> title from Florence + the Machine Only if for a Night. I'm on [Visit tumblr](http://www.sansapotter.tumblr.com) where I just post and reblog silliness :)


End file.
